Stay With Me
by Tifaching
Summary: Sam's delirious, and Dean's deal is coming due.


It had been building for days, but Sam had been ignoring it. Tried to hide it from Dean, like _that'd_ ever worked. The headache, a slight annoyance at first, was now threatening to blind him and the twinges in his joints and muscles had become cramps that sent him to his knees. _Pretty fucking bad timing_ is all he could think as he slumped to the ground.

The black dog that'd been circling had been trying to cut Sam off since the Winchesters tracked it to its lair, and now it moved in for the kill. It knew that Sam had reached his limit, just like Sam knew. Sam saw the beast coming for him and the last thought that ran through his fevered mind was that if he died now, maybe Dean would have a chance. With him already gone, Dean could try to break his deal without worry. _Just don't let the stupid jerk bring me back again_ was his last prayer as the darkness leapt at him and the world went black with a shattering roar.

* * *

><p>Dean was furious. At himself, at the black dog and at Sam. But mostly at himself. He knew Sam was sick, he fucking <em>knew<em> it. It didn't matter what Sam said, how much he denied it. Dean had _known. _And he hadn't fought Sam hard enough about staying back at the motel tonight. Now he was dragging the carcass of a two hundred pound black dog off his brother's too still body and desperately reaching for a pulse as he repeated a constant litany of _not again, please Sammy don't leave me again._ He could feel the tremors running through Sam's body before he found the pulse and heat was coming off his brother in waves. He wouldn't be surprised to see steam in the frigid air if it was light enough to freakin' see _anything._ Dean threw the guns into his duffle and tossed it over his shoulder before staring down at Sam. The black dog had made its lair close to its hunting grounds so they weren't too far from the parking lot for the trailhead that leads into these woods. It was still going to be a bitch to get Sam back to the car- why couldn't the kid have stopped growing when he was fourteen or something? Dean groaned as he hauled Sam to his feet and grunted as he slung his humongous brother over his shoulder. Dean didn't panic- he _didn't- _but he could feel Sam baking through both of their jackets and he hurried down the trail at a pace that wasn't remotely safe with only the glow of the flashlight to guide him over the protruding rocks and roots.

Dean was trembling himself, fighting for breath with his heart about to pound through his chest when he finally got Sam to the car. He had spots dancing across his vision and only the thought that if he passed out now, his brother could die kept him on his feet. He squashed Sam into the back seat and threw his own coat over him before covering him with every blanket and piece of clothing they had in the car. Only when Sam was cocooned in wool, flannel and leather did Dean get in the driver's seat and begin the race back to the motel.

Sam began to stir as the heat from the blankets and the car warmed him, and soon he was mumbling fevered words that Dean at first strained to hear, then wanted desperately to block out. "Dying," Sam mumbled. "Dying 's good, Dean. Good f'r you. Don' bring me back, 'k? "

Dean wanted to scream, to kill something but he kept his voice calm as he replied to his brother. "You're not dying. Not going to let you die on me again, Sammy."

"Gotta let me die, Dean. Can break the deal. Break the deal." Sam's voice trailed off, but Dean could hear his deep breaths from the back seat so he kept on driving. He didn't know if Sam could hear him but he answered anyway. "No way Sam. You're not dying. Not for that." _Not for me._

* * *

><p>The trip from the Impala to the room was a lot shorter than the trip from the woods had been, but Sam wasn't any lighter and Dean was a hell of a lot more tired so it felt like forever before Dean dumped Sam on the nearest bed. Now that he had gotten his brother in the light he could get a better idea of what was going on. Sam's face was flushed with fever and his glassy eyes stared at Dean but didn't seem to see him. Sam's hair was tangled and plastered to his head with sweat and when Dean laid his palm across his brother's forehead he was still burning up. <em>Okay,<em> Dean thought, _first things first._

He toyed with the idea of getting Sam into a tub of cool water, then thought about getting his gigantor of a sibling in and out of the tub and jettisoned that thought almost immediately. The shower would be much easier: maybe Sam would be able to at least lean on Dean under the cool spray. His decision made, Dean began the difficult task of maneuvering a semi-conscious, six foot four man out of his clothes. Sam twitched and pulled his arm back with a whimper as Dean tried to take his jacket off.

"Hurts, Dean. Just stop 'kay?"

"Can't stop, Sammy. You're sick. Gotta get you better." Dean grabbed a bottle of water from the table and gently poured a few drops into Sam's mouth. "Can you swallow that for me?" Sam swallowed and when he didn't choke, Dean gave him a little more. "I'm going to give you some pills, Sam. Help with the fever and the pain. Need you to swallow now." Sam's throat convulsed and Dean breathed a sigh of relief when he got the Tylenol down. "Good, Sam. That's good. " He wanted to wait, give the medicine time to work, but he needed to get Sam cooled down now so he tried again to undress him, being as gentle as possible and talking Sam through it.

He continued to feed Sam water a mouthful at a time and by the time he'd gotten Sam stripped down he'd taken almost a whole bottle. His body was glistening with sweat and Dean stifled a sigh at the thought of getting him to the tub. Waiting wasn't helping anything, so Dean stripped to his shorts and, ignoring his aching muscles, hauled Sam to his feet.

"You have to help me out a little bit here, Sammy. Can't lug your freakishly large self all over creation without a little help. Come on, Sam. Can you move your feet? Maybe walk a little for me?" Dean's voice was strained, forced out between gritted teeth as he shouldered Sam's weight and moved them slowly toward the bathroom. Sam was able to take baby steps, thank god, but the trip was torture for both of them. Dean was groaning and Sam gasping when they finally reached the tub and Dean heaved a huge sigh when he was able to coax Sam to lift his feet and step in.

Dean grunted against the strain in his back as he supported Sam while at the same time bending over to turn on the shower spray. Sam began to shiver and twitch and Dean tightened his grip around his brother's waist. "It's okay, Sam. Gonna get you cooled down. You're a little overheated here." Dean was starting to shiver himself as he leaned against the cold tiles but he held tight as Sam leaned back into him. Sam started to mumble again and Dean's lips tightened as he realized his brother was back on the subject of dying.

"Shouldn't do this Dean," Sam muttered. " If you let me die, you can break the deal. Stop saving me all the time."

"Stop it, Sam," Dean growled and then winced as Sam whimpered in his grasp. "Sorry. Sorry, Sammy, but you've got to stop this. I'm not letting you die. You're just sick, the flu or something. Nothing that's going to kill you. And if you do happen to talk yourself into kicking off, just know this. You die, Sam and I'll be right behind you. You got that? Right fucking behind you. You dying is _not_ going to save me."

"Not?"

"No."

"You'll be right behind me?"

"Yup."

"When I die?"

"_Right _behind you."

Sam started to shake even harder and Dean's legs trembled from the strain of holding him upright. "'Cause I'm goin' to hell, Dean? Right behind me 'cause I'm goin' t'hell?"

The terror in Sam's voice almost sent Dean to his knees, but he locked his legs and managed to not drop them both in a heap in the bottom of the tub.

"No. No, Sammy you are _not _going to hell." God, please, Dean thought. He's a good person, demon blood or not. No hell for Sam, _please._ Dean didn't think God listened, but he knew Sam believed and so he asked anyway.

"Can't be right behind me 'f we're goin' different places, Dean."

_Shit._ "I'll be going in a different direction, Sammy, but I'll be just as dead. I've still got six months left, Sam. You don't want to send me downstairs before my time do you? Besides, you need to stick around to help me figure out a way to beat this. "

"Not gonna try. Said."

"Sam"

"No. You're le'ing me Dean. Can't do it 'lone."

Dean wanted to tell Sam he could. That he was strong and good and better- _worthier. _But the last thing Sam needed right now was a pep talk from his brother about how he'd be fine alone. A pep talk that Dean wasn't sure he believed himself. If this had happened seven months from now, Sam would be dead. He'd have been alone out there- no big brother to watch his back. To make sure he was safe. Dean pushed his doubt and the stabbing fear it brought back into the internal box where he kept such things. Sam needed him _now._ What would happen when Dean's deal came due would have to wait.

"Not going anywhere, Sam." Dean's voice was steady as he lied through his teeth. Sam was delusional with fever. He wouldn't even remember this when he got better. Probably wouldn't. Hopefully wouldn't. "Got a gigantic princess for a brother. Princesses always need someone around to get them out of trouble."

"Heroes."

"What?"

"Heroes. Like you. "

_Oh, fuck._ "I'm no hero Sam."

"Are. Don' leave. Heroes don' leave Dean." Sam was trembling against Dean's chest and Dean was shaking from the effort of holding him up. It was time to get out and get Sam into bed.

"Okay, Sam. Time to get out now." Dean shifted to the side of the tub and nudged Sam gently in the back. "Can you step out for me?"

"Tired."

"I know you are, Sammy but you've got to give me a little help here."

"C'n carry me?"

"Carry you?"

"Princesses always get carried when they're sick."

Dean burrowed his head against his brother's back and bit back a hysterical laugh. "Are you fucking with me Sam?"

"Cold." Was the only response he got.

"Okay. Okay Sammy. Gonna get you warmed up, but you've got to step out of the tub. Can't lift you, dude, not tonight." Dean leaned around Sam and turned off the water, then grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall and began to rub Sam down. By the time he'd gotten them both dry, Dean was ready to fall over himself, but he managed to get Sam to bed before collapsing beside him for a few minutes. Sam was shivering under the covers so Dean stirred himself to grab the blankets from the other bed. He'd only moved a few inches before Sam had a death grip on his arm.

"Don' leave Dean. Promised."

"Just getting you another blanket Sam. Not going anywhere." Dean spread the blankets over Sam then pulled on a pair of semi-clean sweatpants and opened another bottle of water. "Okay, Sammy, got to drink some more for me then you can go to sleep. Got to get your rest so you can get better." Sam obediently swallowed the water and dropped his head back onto the pillow. His eyes closed and Dean thought he was finally drifting off when they sprang back open again.

"You'll be here when I wake up, Dean? You'll be here?"

Dean sat on the bed and rested a hand on Sam's damp forehead. It was still way too warm for Dean's liking. "I'll be here, Sammy. You think I'd leave you when you're sick? I'm way too awesome a big brother for that."

"Awesome," Sam murmured as he sank into sleep. Dean sighed and went to check the room's wards before stretching out on the bed beside Sam, not wanting his brother to wake in the night and panic if he wasn't within reach. It wasn't long before Dean had dropped off too, one hand resting on Sam's chest, measuring the rise and fall of his breaths.

Dean had left the lights on, so when he woke hours later to the sound of Sam screaming his name, it only took a second to make sure nothing was in the room attacking them.

"Sam!" Dean grabbed his flailing brother and tried vainly to hold him still. "Sammy I'm right here, what's wrong?"

"They're coming, Dean. I can hear them."

"Who's coming Sam?"

"Hellhounds. I can hear them. They're coming. Coming for you Dean! "

_They are, Sammy but not for six months. _ "They're not coming Sam. Not yet. I'd hear them if they were out there. Only the person they're coming for can hear them Sammy remember?"

"I hear them, Dean." It was lower this time, less certain but Sam gripped Dean with both hands. "They're still far away but they're coming. They're coming for you and they won't stop."

"It was just a dream Sam. Just a dream." Dean felt Sam's forehead. It was still hot, but nothing like it had been earlier. "Here, Sammy, have some more water and take these. I think you're getting better but you're still pretty sick. Just calm down and try to go back to sleep."

" 'kay, Dean. You stayin'?"

"It's the middle of the night, Sam. I _was_ sleeping. I'm not going anywhere."

"No." Sam gestured vaguely toward the bed. "Stayin' _here."_

_Oh._ "Yeah Sam. I'll sleep here if you want."

" 'kay."

Sam swallowed the water and Tylenol and settled back down, curling up against Dean. His breathing leveled out and he was asleep within minutes. Dean took a little longer. Worry about Sam had pushed his panic about his deal to the back of his mind, but Sam had just brought it all crashing back. He settled in against his brother's back and strained his ears for the sound of baying. It was hours before exhaustion sent him into a restless sleep.

When Dean woke the next morning Sam was still sleeping and the fever seemed to have broken. He got quietly out of bed and threw on some clothes, hoping to get out to get some food and get back before Sam woke up. He was halfway to the door when that hope was dashed.

"Where are you going, Dean?" Sam's voice didn't have the all out panic it had had last night, but there was still a trace of it under the surface.

"Just out to get some breakfast Sam. I'm starving and you need to get some food into you too. Think you could manage some eggs? Or do you want oatmeal?"

"Eggs please. And juice." Sam's voice trailed off for a moment. "You'll be right back?"

"Fast as the cook can scramble." Dean turned to head out, but Sam's pale face had him adding one last statement. "I'll always come back Sam."

The door closing behind him didn't quite cut off Sam's low reply. "No you won't."

Dean leaned against the door for a long moment before he headed for the car. _No I won't. _ But he was here now and he'd take care of Sam the best he could for as long as he could. Starting with breakfast.


End file.
